Lost
by Apple Bottom
Summary: Pain. The white hot, never ending, makes you forget everything and want to die kind of pain. My name is Katherine Diana Roberts. I was 19 years old when I first arrived in Middle Earth. This is my story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Be warned, this is a 'girl falls into middle earth' fiction. I have read a few and they mostly annoy me so I tried my hand at writing myself. This is my first fan fiction, so please be nice.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from LOTR or Middle Earth, it belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

Pain. The white hot, never ending, makes you forget everything and want to die kind of pain. Like every cell in my body was being pulled apart one by one and then being set on fire.

This is what I told people when they asked what it was like being pulled from another realm. It wasn't often that I was asked, because there were few here who knew the truth about where I came from. But when trying to explain the sensation of travelling between two worlds, this was my best description.

I didn't like to think about that day too much for it brought back other memories of home, and with that, the realisation that I would never see it again. I spend most of my days here in Rivendell admiring the beauty of the surrounding landscapes and gardens, trying to forget. Everything here, from the people to the trees and plants, was so different, so alien. And I was stuck right in the middle of it with no way out.

For starters, I had no idea how I got here in the first place. One minute I was leaving the university campus and heading for my car when BAM! -the pain hits me. I must have fallen unconscious at some point because the next thing I know I am being shaken awake by none other than Gandalf the Grey himself.

Of course, I didn't know who he was at the time, I didn't even understand what language he was speaking, and he apparently didn't speak English. But after some exaggerated hand signals we made our introductions. I laughed out loud when he told me his name. He certainly could be a wizard by the way he dressed. But he didn't find this funny, and snapped something in that foreign language he spoke.

That wiped the smile off my face. At this point I thought he was either just some Lord of the Rings nut that took the books way too seriously, or part of the biggest practical joke of all time. Well, I wasn't going to be taken for a fool, or play a part of some fantasy. And I told him so, through a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

It took a while for me to calm down, but by that time it was getting dark and I was cold. Panic had started to set in when I took in my surroundings. I definitely wasn't in Melbourne anymore, not even close. My mind couldn't make sense of what had happened, and it was at that moment that I did something I had never done before in my life. I fainted.

I woke up to the smell of smoke and dirt filling my nostrils. I was on a mat or blanket of some kind that didn't do much to soften the bumps and general hardness of the ground. When I looked around I realised I was in a campsite, and the man who claimed to be Gandalf was sitting against a tree near the fire, smoking a pipe.

He turned to me and smiled gently, as though trying to reassure me that he wasn't going to hurt me. I didn't know for the life of me what to do. In the end I'm ashamed to say that I cried. I was scared, and with a strange man who thought he was Gandalf off Lord of the Rings, and who didn't speak English, and Toto, I sure as hell wasn't in Kansas anymore.

He didn't comfort me, he just let me cry. After I finished, we tried again to communicate, but when that failed miserably, we settled for silence. After a few minutes, he pointed to the tree and then said something, a word. I gave him a confused look. He then pointed at several different objects and followed each one with another word. I then understood. He was trying to teach me his language. I was never good at languages but I did my best to learn as much as I could, as it seemed like my best bet of getting home. Eventually I got tired and fell asleep.

I don't know why but I trusted him. He hadn't hurt me, and he seemed quite genuine. When he packed up the camp the next morning, there was no question. I was going with him. During the walk he continued to teach me his language, pointed at things as we went and telling me their name.

Later that day, after a tremendous amount of walking, we came upon what appeared to be a village. Gandalf stopped me before we entered though, and handed me a cloak. He gestured with his hands at my clothes and said something I didn't understand. He wanted me put the cloak on to blend in I figured. So I did. It was a little big, but it hid my body. He nodded in approval when I finished, and proceeded to the gate that hid the village.

This was where I first realised that this was not a practical joke, although I think somewhere is my subconscious I already knew it was real. This realisation was brought on not just because of the medieval clothing, or the apparent lack of modern technology. It was the smell. I had never walked down a street that smelled as bad as this one. I wondered why for a moment, until I saw someone tip a pot upside down from a second story window, its contents being revealed as a yellowy liquid mixed with brown clumps. Human waste. Ew.

It's what I miss most about home. Plumbing. Even the elves haven't heard of the concept. At least they don't throw it out the window for anyone to step on. They take it from their room each day and use it to fertilise the plants and gardens.

I was a little taken aback when Arwen told me about what they did. Seeing the look on my face, she then went on to tell me that I didn't have to do it, there were those that lived here whose job it was to empty the 'chamber pots' for guests. I blushed furiously at this, telling her that I didn't want people handling my poo. So each morning I get up, do my business, and then take it out to the gardens.

This village I was in then though was revolting. Well, at least the streets were. We made it to some sort of market place area, and although it didn't smell of daisies and perfume, it didn't make me want to puke either.

There were stalls set up around the marketplace selling everything from clothes to weapons. Sharp pointy weapons; weapons that kill. I instinctively took a step closer to Gandalf's side when I saw them. They were very real, which meant that the danger in this world was very real. I strongly hoped that I would never have to encounter those dangers. Gandalf was still Gandalf the Grey which meant the fellowship hadn't formed yet, and I could get out of here before it did.

Gandalf led me to a store that was selling clothes. The man minding the store looked quite bored, apparently business wasn't very good today. Gandalf approached the man, who stood up straighter, and had a conversation with him, of which I didn't understood. Gandalf gestured at me a few times, and the sales man looked a little surprised but nodded.

I was soon equipped with a pair of boots, a cloak, pants, a shirt and a coat, all of which was paid for by Gandalf with a bag of coins. I didn't like other people paying for me when I had no way of paying them back. I tried to stop Gandalf handing the man the money, but he just swatted me away, smiled at the sales man before ushering me off somewhere else. He was muttering something under his breath and shaking his head, but I was too busy trying not to drop any of my new purchases to care.

Gandalf then took us to an inn of some kind. There was an old fashioned wooden bar, surrounded by many tables and chairs. At the bar was a large old man, who was missing a few teeth. Gandalf approached the man and exchanged a few words. The other man nodded and led us upstairs to a room. He left us there and headed back downstairs by himself. I looked at Gandalf with what I hoped was a 'what now' expression. He just gestured at the new clothes and went to step outside the door.

Sighing, I got undressed and put the new clothes on. They were comfortable enough, but I would have preferred my jeans, hoddie and converse sneakers. The little comfort I had was my backpack that had somehow travelled with me from home. It contained my uni books, a few pens, my phone, purse, keys, lip balm, a small torch and a comb. And I would have loved a bath. But as I would soon find out, when you're travelling in Middle Earth, a bath is not something you can take for granted.

My name is Katherine Diana Roberts. I was 19 years old when I first arrived in Middle Earth. This is my story.

**A/N: What did you think? Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That belongs to the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**A/N: When the characters are talking in English it will be written in italics. **

**I'm also trying to keep the dates as accurate as possible. This scene is set some time in March 3018 of the third age, just before Gandalf returns to the Shire to prove that Frodo has the One Ring.**

**When Katherine was taken from out world it was the year 2001, just before the first movie came out. I'll probably use dialogue from the movie just to make things flow easier.**

"The purpose of life is to fight maturity."

There was a lot to be said for Gandalf the Grey, but ever since I've met him I've always described him as a whiz with languages. While I was trying to learn the 'common tongue' I taught him every English word I knew, just so that we had some common ground.

He learned how to speak English in eleven days flat, and when I say he speaks English, I mean he speaks _perfect_ English. No stutter or accent, no forgetting a word or using a word out of context. I mean damn! The man really was magic.

Me on the other hand, I struggled big time.

After almost two months of travelling with Gandalf, I still couldn't hold a conversation in the common tongue, or at least not a good one. I'd gotten good at asking questions and communicating to people what I need if we stopped at a town, but ask me to follow a conversation in common tongue and I'd be lost about five words in.

But Gandalf, despite his intolerance for insolence, was very patient with me when it came to learning. Now that we were able to communicate properly, I asked him what he knew of my being in Middle Earth and how I could get home.

"Alas, I am unsure. I do not believe it is within my power to send you back to your home world, and even if I could, I would not."

"And why not?" I demanded, angered by his apparent indifference on the matter.

"Two reasons my dear. First, I believe that there is a reason that you have been brought to Middle Earth, whether the intention for you being here is good or bad is unclear but someone went to a lot of effort to make it so. Second, travelling between worlds is not unheard of, but it is dangerous, and requires a power beyond my ability. Horrible things have happened to those who have attempted such things, and with no experience on my part, I would not be willing to risk it."

"How is it that you of all people found me back there?" It couldn't have been a coincidence.

"I was headed for the Shire to visit a friend of mine, and there was some sort of mysterious power that seemed to get stronger as I got closer. I had felt the power building for days, and it wasn't something that I could simply ignore, I went to investigate its source and I found you. I knew that you were not from this realm immediately." Okay...

"Where are we going?"

And the questions continued.

Gandalf had found me just east of the Lune River, and we had been travelling south of the Shire, trying to avoid much attention. Trips into towns and villages were necessary, and didn't get us too much attention as there were many travellers that passed through them.

Gandalf told me we were headed to a larger town called Bree. I was familiar with the name, and recalled it as the town the hobbits had first met the mysterious Strider in the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy. This would be the last town we stopped at before we headed off for Rivendell.

I didn't tell Gandalf about the books, I wasn't sure it was wise. He had questions about my world too, what it was like, how it was different, how it was similar. I answered them as best I could, but kept my silence about how he was supposed to just be a character in a story. It just didn't seem right to tell someone they weren't supposed to exist.

Other than teaching me 'common tongue', Gandalf taught me how to set up camp, how to cook food, and even what I should and should not eat while in Middle Earth. I had lost weight since arriving, whether that was due to the ridiculous amount of walking we did, or the rationed food that we ate, I wasn't sure. A combination of the two perhaps, either way, I was starting to look a bit thin.

So whenever we got to stop at a town or village, I always made us stay a little longer than necessary so that I could enjoy a warm bed and a hearty meal for an extra night or two. The result of this made for an irritated Gandalf, and a longer trip to Bree.

...

Bree was by far the largest town we had come across. It also smelled cleaner too, a small mercy for my part. I didn't get time to stop and look around, for Gandalf had a no nonsense attitude today which meant no arguments. I wasn't complaining, not that I usually did, but I was excited because for the first time in about three weeks I was going to get a bath! Believe me that was something to be excited about.

I for the most part I did what Gandalf asked, for some reason it seemed like the logical thing to do. He was all old and wise so he knew best right? But on trivial matters, like how I wore my hair or what song I hummed while we walked, I would not budge. I needed to hold on to some semblance of my old self.

It was just that being here...I felt so lost and unsure about everything. Gandalf was my guide, the one thing I could rely on.

That's why I was so upset when he told me he was leaving.

We had just arrived at the Inn of the Prancing Pony. It had been a bit of a wakeup call when I first saw the sign, a reminder of where I was, that this was real. It had felt like I'd been walking in a very vivid dream up until then.

We were in my private room when he decided to drop the bomb.

"_What_?" I asked, furious. "_You're just going to abandon me? What am I supposed to do? I don't know a thing about this place, I can't even speak common tongue properly!_"

"_Calm down girl, I'm not abandoning you. I have made arrangements for you, for there are other matter's that I must see to, very urgent. We are meeting an old friend of mine, he will take you somewhere safe_."

A had a feeling I knew who this friend was, another character from the trilogy. Great, this was just great. I was getting too involved with the plot, and worse, Gandalf was abandoning me!

No, that was a selfish thought. He was off to save the world, I should be the least of his worries really. I was only being so self centred because I was stuck in another universe. Was it so wrong of me to want every person in this place to help me find a way home?

I looked outside at the town's folk, busy cleaning or cooking or fixing something. They all had lives, they all had responsibilities, and they all had families. Most importantly, they were all real.

Yes, I sighed to myself, I was being selfish.

I waited in my room for Gandalf to return with this mystery friend of his. I started fiddling with the frayed edges of the blanket on the bed out of boredom. When Gandalf still had not returned after about twenty minutes, I began to get anxious. Where was he? Shouldn't he be back by now?

I was so fretful by this point that I grabbed my phone out of my bag without thinking to call someone, before realising the idiocy of the action. Not only was I far from getting any coverage, but the battery had died after a few days of my arrival. It was useless now, but I still held onto it for sentimental reasons.

Finally, after about half an hour of pacing the room and going through the entire contents of my backpack twice, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I called in common tongue.

The door swung forward to reveal two figures. One was, to my utter relief, Gandalf; the other was a man with long dark hair, and wearing well worn travelling gear. He stood straight and proud at about 6'2" and had a slightly wild look about him-or maybe it was just the unshaven face. He looked to be in his mid thirties, and I had to admit that his face wasn't unattractive, though a bit old for my taste. He had a sword at his belt, along with a dagger or short sword (I wasn't an expert on weaponry), and looked ready for action. My suspicions about who he was grew stronger.

"Katherine," Gandalf said slowly in Common tongue for my benefit, "this is my friend, Strider."

Yep, thought so.

"Hello," said Strider, following Gandalf's lead, "pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you...too," I replied politely, remembering to add the appropriate word as a response.

There was an awkward silence as we all stood there. We couldn't really have a proper conversation as a group due to the language barrier, so Gandalf broke from speaking common tongue to talk to me in English.

"_Strider will take you to Rivendell. He is a dear and honourable friend of mine and I would trust him with my life. He is going out of his way to help us out, having just helped me out with another mission recently_." I wondered for a moment what that was. Having read the 'Lord of the Rings' when I was much younger, I scanned my memory of the story.

"Gollum," I said under my breath without thinking.

And that, right there, is where the trouble started. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I'd made a mistake.

Both men looked startled, especially Gandalf, for I had been travelling with him for months and he had never mentioned the war of the ring.

"_What do you know of Gollum_?"

There was no point lying to Gandalf, not anymore. So I told him what I knew about Gollum. I didn't tell him he was just supposed to be a fictional character like everyone else here; I just said that the events in Middle Earth, including the war of the ring, were somehow documented in my world.

Gandalf was furious, demanding to know more, and why I didn't tell him earlier.

"_Because_," I said in as calm of voice as I could, "_knowing the future is dangerous. Things are supposed to happen a certain way, and who knows how just my being here has stuffed that up already. The less you know, the better_." I sounded more confident than I really was. Gandalf could be quite intimidating, and he didn't look entirely convinced. So I decided to add my more immediate concern to my argument. "_And besides, if any of the bad guys caught on that I knew what was to come, do you think that they would hesitate to use me to their advantage? Staying silent seemed like my best bet_."

Gandalf apparently couldn't argue with my logic, but he still looked troubled. I didn't like it when he was troubled. He was supposed to be the one with all the answers, so this in turn made me nervous.

Strider, who stayed silent through our whole exchange shifted nervously. He wouldn't have understood a word of what we just said, and I got the feeling he was not used to being left out of the loop on things. Also, being still was not one of his strong suits. He was a man of action, a hero.

Gandalf then turned to Strider and they had a quick conversation of which I only understood the words 'leave', 'Rivendell' and 'Elrond'. I played the words around in my head; leave for Rivendell to see Elrond? Probably. Elrond was, is, a wise guy so it would make sense that they would go to him for advice on my knowledge.

When Gandalf sighed, I looked back up.

"_We will discuss this when I return to Rivendell_." He stated with no room for argument. "_Perhaps Lord Elrond can offer some insight on what to do with the knowledge you possess_." Ha, I was right! I was getting better at this.

But the jubilation that I briefly felt over my small success was quickly squashed when I realised he meant to leave immediately.

"_You're leaving _now?"

"_Yes, I have already lost enough time in getting you here, so I must make up for that now_." This made me feel extremely guilty. How many times had I insisted on spending one more night in a village because I was tired or didn't feel well? How many extra hours had I spent resting because my feet had been just a bit sore?

For some reason there was a switch that went off in my brain that made me get defensive whenever I felt guilty over something. It was irrational really, something I did automatically that made no sense at all. But it was kicking in right now.

"_Fine, leave then_," I said angrily turning away from them. I was acting like a bratty little child, I knew that, but the words had left my mouth before I could stop them. Damn my pride.

"Farewell my dear Katherine, until we meet again," and with that, Gandalf left the room with Strider.

I waited a few minutes, hoping that he wasn't gone, that he would burst through the door and say 'just kidding!' and that he would stay. It was a child's hope.

Maybe if I'd been more myself, if I'd actually stopped and thought about what to say. I would have thought to warn him of Saruman, and told him not to mention me. But I was upset, and rational thoughts weren't an option at the time. Something I would live to regret.

Aragorn didn't return for the rest of the night, either sensing my need to be alone right now or he just felt that uncomfortable around me that he was avoiding me altogether. Whatever the reason was, I was kind of grateful, for there were no witnesses to watch me ball my eyes out like a baby.

The next morning, long after my eyes had lost that red puffy look they get when I cried, after I'd had one too many ales (which taste disgusting by the way, but you don't really notice the taste after you've had a few), after Aragorn had found me in some sort of tattoo shop and dragged me back up to my room, after I'd woken up to the worst hang over I've ever had and ever will have, I worked out a few things.

I was a child, and it was time I learned to grow up and show a bit of backbone. I had led a very sheltered life before coming to Middle Earth, I still lived with my parents, and we'd always been reasonably well off. But now...things were different and I couldn't always have someone there to hold my hand, and sometimes I would have to make my own decisions and work things out on my own. For me, that was a scary thought, but it was necessary if I wanted to survive.

The first thing I decided was to vow that I would not feel sorry for myself the way I did last night ever again. The second was to throw up in the chamber pot and _not_ the bed sheets. The third was to go and get me a bath.

Everything else could wait until after that.

**A/N: Go on, tell me what you think...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. That belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews! They make me happy and motivate me to write, so keep them up!**

**Let me know if I get any of the details of Middle Earth wrong. I've done some research, but I'm not a Tolkien expert.**

"In battle all you need to make you fight is a little hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than to win." – George Bernard Shaw

Aside from the mother of all hangovers I woke up to after my night of drunkenness, there were two things that I regretted even more.

One was the volleyball-sized tattoo I received that I'm too embarrassed to even think about, though the stinging sensation it gave me kept reminding me of its presence. There was nothing I could do about it now, it was done. The one thing that I was grateful for was that it's in a place that no one will ever see, unless I'm completely naked. So that ruled out any possible sexual relationships I might ever consider, not that I'd had much experience with men anyway.

The other was the behaviour I'd displayed in front of Strider. My childish and drunken stunt was not a very good first impression and he was probably regretting ever agreeing to help Gandalf out with me. I was so mortified by what he must think of me that going down stairs for breakfast and facing him was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. God, I was an IDIOT!

I found him sitting silently on a table in the corner, two plates of food sitting in front of him. I slid into the seat opposite without making eye contact with him.

"Good morning Strider," I mumbled, my face probably resembling the colour of a tomato.

"Good morning Katherine," he replied politely, not giving any indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

"Sorry, last night, very sorry," I blurted out in my best common tongue. "Not happen...again, not again." I was starring at my feet in shame when I felt a finger lift my chin up.

"It is okay," he said seriously and then pushed a plate of food in front of me. "Breakfast. Eat." I caught a whiff of the eggs and bacon and almost baffed. Strider didn't miss my expression and chuckled slightly before saying something like "You'll feel better."

I simply nodded and did as he said, trying my best not to gag on the food as it went down.

He explained to me as best he could that we would leave tomorrow morning since I wasn't feeling one hundred percent today. I understood the words 'bright and early' as he spoke, a phrase Gandalf had used many times before. I groaned internally. More early starts, more walking, and more sleeping on a hard ground; my back was still sore from my last trip. I wondered vaguely if Middle Earth had any chiropractors.

But I didn't ask Strider about that, or complain about walking or anything else for that matter. I was going to be the pinnacle of good manners and behaviour from now on. Or at least I would try my hardest to be.

The rest of the day was spent organising supplies for our trip, and Strider critically analysing my travelling gear. He insisted that he buy me a pair of gloves, and a new cloak, as the one Gandalf brought me was 'too thin'. It wasn't Gandalf's fault that it wasn't the best quality for there were limited options at the time. But even so, I didn't want him to buy me anything. I had another idea of how to keep warm.

"I wear," I said, pulling my hoddie from my backpack, "maybe? Under?" I indicated wearing the hoddie under my shirt and coat. "Warm."

Strider was fascinated by my hoddie, especially the zip at the front. He kept opening and closing it with a look of awe that reminded strongly of a child in the same situation that I started giggling uncontrollably. It was the first time I had done anything of the sort since I arrived in Middle Earth, and it felt good.

Strider seemed to realise what he was doing, because he cleared his throat and stood up straight before nodding his approval. So, with me wearing my hoddie, I would be warm enough at night, and wouldn't have to bring along extra blankets to keep the chill out. But he still insisted on the gloves.

In the end the gloves weren't bad at all, in fact, they were kind of cool. They were fingerless like his, and would help prevent me from getting scratches or injuring my hand in some way. They were comfortable, and kept my hands toasty in the somewhat nippy weather. But the thing I like most about them was the way they made me look. Dangerous and totally badass!

Yeah, I'd been in a relatively good mood since breakfast despite my hangover. I think it had something to do with me getting over myself, and the relief of Strider's forgiveness of my behaviour. Or maybe it was just the gloves.

But my good mood left me the next day when I was forced to get out of bed before dawn. Strider had to come and wake me up for I was not what you'd call a morning person, it just wasn't part of my biology.

After a lot of grumbling and cursing Aragorn for his ability to be so awake when he should be sleeping, we eventually set out.

Even though I knew Striders real name, I never called him by it. He had introduced himself as Strider and if he'd wanted me to call him by anything else he would have said so. Besides, I was pretty sure he went by Strider to avoid any recognition of his heritage.

The good thing about travelling with Strider, or bad thing depending on how you looked at it, was that I was forced to speak in common tongue whenever we had to communicate. I couldn't cheat like I did with Gandalf, so it forced me to think, to get better at it. Some words were easier to remember than others because they sounded similar to their English counterpart. But others I had to work at.

Majority of the time we spent walking was in silence. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, it was just that Strider was busy keeping an eye out for danger, and I was busy making sure I kept putting one foot in front of the other. But as we settled down for the night, we usually struck up some sort of weird conversation that involved a fair bit of miming.

He told me about Rivendell, and the elves, and the landscapes that we would see in the upcoming days. I followed along as best I could, and he dumbed down his speech a fair bit so I could understand. I enjoyed his stories, even if I couldn't understand all the details.

On the fifth night, after we'd gone through our established routine for the night, he started singing a song in a language I didn't recognise, Elvish probably. Haunting though the song sounded, it was still very beautiful. When he stopped I asked him what it was called.

"'The lay of Leithian'. It tells of Luthien, an immortal elf maiden who falls for Beren, a mortal man." When he told me this I only understood the names of Luthien and Beren, but still understood what he meant, and remembered the significance of the story to Strider, for he loved an elf maiden too. "She died," he added after a short pause, looking sadly out at the stars.

I felt so sorry for him then. I knew about Arwen and the choice she would have to make about her own immortality, and how guilty that must make him feel. But it all worked out in the end didn't it? They would be happy and live a long and joyful life together. _As long as everything in the story plays out the way it's supposed to_, I thought guiltily.

I fidgeted in my discomfort. I hoped that my being here didn't change the outcome of everything.

Strider didn't miss my restless behaviour.

"What troubles you?" he said concerned.

"Sad singing," I mumbled. By the look on Strider's face, he didn't believe me but he nodded anyway and let it go.

"Do you know any songs?" he asked indicating me, in an attempt to change the topic.

"Err...yes," it took me a minute to understand the question. "But Bad. Badly sing." I said embarrassed. I didn't have a very good singing voice, but somehow that didn't stop me from belting out a tune. It was weird not hearing music all the time, or at least the music I was used to. It's probably one of the most disconcerting things I've had to deal with in Middle Earth.

I ended up singing American Pie for him, simply because it was the longest song I knew and took some time to sing all the verses. Strider seemed to enjoy it though, despite not being able to understand a single word, and my awful singing.

After that we settled for silence, each of us left alone to our own thoughts. I really liked Strider so far, he was gentler than Gandalf somehow. Maybe it was because we were both human that we understood each other better and could be comfortable in each other's presence. Or maybe he was just a more easy going person, who knows.

Not long after that, I fell asleep listening to Strider singing again.

...

The trip was easier than the trip with Gandalf as the path we were taking wasn't as hilly. However, there was a difficulty that I came across on this trip that I hadn't encountered with Gandalf. Orcs.

I had gotten very complacent, thinking that the biggest danger I was in was doing too much walking. It didn't even occur to me that there might be creatures that would try to kill me for the simple pleasure of it.

It happened one night, about two weeks after we'd set out from Bree, while we were looking for a place to set up camp. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and we had walked for a little longer than usual for the day.

We found a rocky area that would shield us from the rest of the world, and by 'we found' I mean Strider found. He knew what he was doing. Anyway, he had his back turned to me, examining the camp site before giving it his approval when suddenly he froze, like he had heard something. I listened hard to the sounds surrounding us, but I couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary.

He usually went out for an hour scouting the landscape for dangers before he would settle for the night, so that left me to set up camp and cook the food. But he hadn't got a chance to do that yet, we had only just found a place to stay.

I was about to ask what he heard when he turned and motioned for me to be silent, which I did, before taking a few steps into the surrounding scrub.

They seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute there was nothing but me and Strider in the clearing, the next there were also three orcs with us.

They were the first orcs I'd ever seen in my life, but they certainly weren't the last. In fact, compared to the orcs I'd see later on, they were kind of scrawny. They were ugly things, disgusting really, and they all came at us at once. Two for Strider, one for me.

Strider, with his lightning fast reflexes, had already killed one of them, and was battling with the second one, which was perhaps the largest of the three. However his focus was split with the third orc who was almost upon me. He relented his battle with the second orc for a second to grab the knife out of his belt and throw it at the third orc with precise accuracy. The orc dropped dead about ten feet from me with the knife in its throat. But in that moment the second orc had taken advantage of Striders distraction to knock him to the ground. Swords went flying out of reach while they wrestled on the ground. From somewhere the orc had produced a rope and had wrapped it around Strider's neck.

While all this was happening, I was just standing there in shock.

I had never been a violent person, and had always avoided a confrontation when I felt one brewing, so what I did next was somewhat of a miracle. I guess seeing my protector needing protecting made my brain start working again.

Crap. Okay, think Kathy, think.

What? What are you going to think of?

A way to save Strider.

Okay, how? I don't want to get too close...

So throw something at it...like that rock over there.

I'd spotted a rock a few feet away and picked it up. It was about the size of my fist, or a tennis ball, and easily fit into my hand as I took aim at the orc. The trouble was that they were moving around, struggling with each other and I had just as much chance of hitting Strider as I did the Orc. But I had to take the chance, I had to save him. Praying that all those years of playing back yard cricket would finally pay off, I let it loose.

It hit the orc right on the back of his noggin with sharp smacking sound. Bullseye.

"Ha!" I shouted. "I did it!"

Unfortunately, my blow had not been enough to knock the orc out. It turned around, dropping Strider who fell to the ground wheezing, as its eye's looked for the source of the attack.

Great, now it was heading straight for me.

Yeah, didn't think of that.

And now I was trapped, the rocky cliff face caging me in. I had picked a bad spot to stand. Where on Earth (or Middle Earth as the case may be) was Strider?

I was left to fend for myself this time, and I wasn't going down without a fight. In the couple of seconds I had to think, an absurd yet simple idea formed in my head. Okay, so the best defence is a good offence right? Timing would be everything.

As the orc lifted his sword to strike me down, I took my chance, rushed forward and punched him squarely on the nose with all the strength I had.

The orc staggered back several meters, his hand covering his face in pain.

I don't know who was more surprised. Me, for I had never punched anyone before in my life and it was a long shot that it would work. Or the orc, who was so stunned that a mere girl had got the better of him that he stared at me in astonishment.

Well, his surprise didn't last long before it turned into anger and he went to attack me again. But he didn't get very far before he was beheaded by the pointy end of Strider's sword.

About bloody time!

You would think that I would have been totally grossed out by a head being decapitated from a body, but I was just so relieved that it was over, for I didn't think that trying to punch the orc a second time would work.

I took inventory on any potential injuries we might have. I felt fine; my hand was a little sore from punching that orc, but the gloves I was wearing really paid off. No cuts or grazes.

What was a big deal was the mark around Strider's throat, and the way he struggled to talk properly.

"You undamaged?" I asked. I wasn't sure if that was the correct way to ask in he was uninjured, but he seemed to understand.

"Yea..." he choked out, grimacing.

"Not talk," I said pointing at his throat. He nodded.

We didn't set up camp that night, eating little, and more or less staying up all night. Strider spent an hour or two scouting the surrounding landscape for more orcs, but in the end came up empty handed, which was a relief.

Strider's neck slowly healed over the next week. He was speaking normally after about two days though it took a lot longer for the marks and bruises around his neck to fade.

The day following the orc incident, I commended him for the gloves that he'd brought me, replaying for him over and over again how I'd punched that Orc in the face and how the gloves had helped. He had been quite impressed with my improvised actions, and praised me for saving his life. I stopped walking and looked up at him. He was serious, and none too proud to admit that he'd needed help.

"You welcome," I said sincerely. Strider shook his head and chuckled.

"'You're welcome'," he corrected me.

"You're welcome," I said smiling at him, before continuing with our journey.

After that, something was different between us; a bond of sorts had formed. I later figured out that when someone saves your life like that, you trust them explicitly, and through your life you will never forget it. The comradeship we started that day built and lasted to the day I died.

It was probably the most exciting thing to happen on our trip. And after about three weeks of travelling together, I finally got my first look at Rivendell.

**A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Questions?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, Tolkien does. Duh.**

**A/N: Here's the next chapter, I hope it's up to scratch. I'm putting it up so soon because I had already written part of it when I posted the last chapter. Let me know what you think.**

"A person can get used to anything, if given enough time." – Nicholas Sparks

Rivendell was like something out of a fairy tale. It was stunning and untouched, and its beauty almost made me want to cry. If I had a camera, I would have taken thousands of photos because everywhere I looked was more amazing than the last. But even the best photographer could not capture the sense of splendour and timelessness that the place seems to possess. Like, it was a secret that could not be shared unless you actually see it with your own eyes.

It had been around six months since my first look at Rivendell, and it still managed to take my breath away. But at least I didn't go around with my mouth hanging open like I did the first time. It was at this time that I also saw my first elf.

How do I describe elves? Well, they're a little disconcerting at first. There is something ethereal about them, like they belong in the world of dreams, not the real world. (Well, the 'real world' is a relative term but I think you understand what I mean.) I sometimes think that they are a little arrogant, probably due to them being all immortal and wise and fair. To this day, I have never met an elf that wasn't good looking enough to be put on the front cover of a magazine back home.

Home. God I missed it. I missed my mum and my dad; I even missed my little brother Matthew, as annoying as he was. I missed the lifestyle, the people, and the shops. I missed being clean all the time. I missed watching 'Friends' on Wednesday nights and I missed speaking English like it was the normal thing to do. Most of all, I missed knowing where my place was in the world.

In Rivendell, I was somewhat of a freak. It seems that elves could also sense that I'm from another realm, or at least sense that there is something different about me anyway. I kept getting these looks from them all the time everywhere I went, and I could see questions in their eyes. _Who are you? Where are from? What are you doing here?_ I had a feeling that either Elrond or Arwen asked people not to bother me about such matters, and as such they mostly just avoided me.

Strider only stayed a week or so after delivering me to Rivendell, but in that time he told me to call him Aragorn if I wished, and he also introduced me to the person who would teach me how to speak common tongue properly. The one and only Bilbo Baggins.

He was a funny old chap, a little shorter and older that anyone I'd ever called a friend before, but he was the one that kept me sane in those first couple of months after Aragorn set out into the wilderness again. For one thing, he didn't sense anything different about me like the elves did so he more or less treated me normally. Also, he spoke common tongue most of the time, unlike the elves who preferred to speak in their native language.

He helped me to develop my language skills and even how to read and write in the common speech. I usually spent each morning with him as he gave me my lesson for the day. Some days we would just talk, and he would tell me about his adventures and I would tell him about my time with Gandalf and Strider. But other days were harder, and Bilbo could be a tough teacher when he wanted to be.

I got so fed up with some lessons, and a sense of hopelessness would overcome me. One particular morning found us sitting in the library near one of the numerous windows that the building had. The sunny day seemed to mock me as I tried to concentrate on what Bilbo was saying.

I had had a rough night the night before, dreaming of home and my family sitting at the dinner table discussing their respective days. But I was outside looking in through the window. They were out of reach, and no matter how hard I beat my fist against the glass, it would not break. I could not get to them. I woke feeling sad and alone, and curled up into a ball under my sheets wishing I was back home.

I had spent so long in bed that I had been late for my lesson with Bilbo that morning and he seemed a little disgruntled when I offered no explanation. As a result, he was particularly gruelling when it came to remembering the names of the different types of plants found in Middle Earth.

"What is the difference between a 'forest' and a 'garden'?" Bilbo asked me expectantly.

"Err..." I tried to recall the differences between each word from the previous day's study. "Forest is maintained by a carer, and a garden is...a flower."

"No, that's not it at all. You knew this yesterday." He sighed and rubbed his head in his hands. "Okay," he said looking up, "A garden is a group of plants maintained by a carer, and a forest is a large group of trees that can stretch for miles and miles. Write that down."

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly went to write that down on a piece of parchment, only to have Bilbo stop me.

"No, no, in common tongue Katherine it's the only way you're going to learn."

The frustration that had been building all morning finally boiled over. I threw the piece of paper across the table and yelled, "_I don't care about_ 'forests' _and_ 'gardens' _okay? I don't care about the common tongue or anything in Middle Earth. I just want to go home._" I looked up at the sky in some silly hope that someone would hear me. "_I want to go home already!"_

What was the point of studying? I didn't want to be here, I wanted to go home, but my prospects of getting there were looking slimmer and slimmer each day. I should have just accepted the truth, that there was no going back. But that thought was so...wrong. I needed to believe that I would one day see home again, it was what kept me going.

Bilbo hadn't understood any of my rant, but he did understand that I was angry. He looked at me calmly. Too calmly, like he had expected me to start yelling.

_Whatever_, I thought angrily, _it doesn't matter what he thinks_. I got up from my seat and stormed off in the direction of the doors leading outside.

A couple of hours later, once I had cooled off by going for a long walk, found me regretting my outburst at Bilbo. He did not deserve to be treated so rudely. It was just that sometimes I have a short fuse when it comes to my temper. I really needed to work on that, especially when the people I go off at are the ones that are only trying to help me.

So, for the second time in as many months, I went to apologise to a friend of mine.

"Temper's get the better of us sometimes, I understand," Bilbo said once I had found him and apologised profusely. "Though yours is one that I should probably look out for in the future. You can be quite scary you know," he chuckled.

What was it with people in Middle Earth being so forgiving?

"I had a bad night, that's all. I am usually more patient with your teachings."

Bilbo nodded his agreement, and after that we didn't have any more incidents during my lessons.

...

Aside from Bilbo and me, the rest of the population in Rivendell was made up of elves, so interacting with them at some point was inevitable.

I only met Lord Elrond a handful of times during my stay. Every time I was in his presence I always felt like I should bow or something, he was just so...noble I guess, a lord to his people. It was hard to believe that he was so old when he looked so young. He always regarded me curiously in those old, wise eyes that had seen so much of this world, but he never asked too many questions.

From what I understood at the time, Gandalf had given Aragorn a letter to deliver to Elrond when we arrived. It was brief, and offered little explanation, except to request that I was kept secret and safe until he returned, which I was.

I was left in the care of Arwen. Arwen was the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and standing next to her made me feel as ugly as a troll's backside. I could see why Aragorn loved her, for despite her ridiculous good looks, she was also very kind for an elf. Elves weren't rude or mean per se, but they did have an aloofness about them that made them a little intimidating, but I found Arwen more approachable than the others. Perhaps falling in love with a mortal made her more open minded than most.

Even so, I did not see her every day for she had others things to occupy herself with. I was a guest and she was the host, making sure I was well cared for. She came by every few days to make sure I had everything I needed, and just to talk if I felt so inclined. We didn't have much in common and any conversation between us was often strained.

When I mentioned one day that I didn't have much to do in the afternoons, she took me to the stables where the horses were kept.

Arwen introduced me to the elf who took care of the horses. His name was Glandur and he was tall and fair, as all elves were, and his hair was so blonde it was white. Could elves be albino?

He gave me the usual weird look that all elves give me, and was surprised when Arwen suggested that I should help him with the horses, for he had mentioned to her that he would like some help with the extra horses they had acquired as of late. He was reluctant at first when I told them that I had no experience with horses, but Arwen insisted that he take me under his wing, and Arwen's word was final.

So, my afternoons were now filled with all things horsey.

Glandur, it seemed, had a bit of mischievous side to him. He made it no secret that he wasn't entirely fond of the idea of a human girl with no prior practice with horses helping him out, so it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when he decided to play a joke on me. Who knew that elves had a sense of humour?

On the third day I spent with him, after I managed to drop a horse shoe on his foot, he ordered me away angrily to get some apples from the kitchens. He even told me how to say 'can I have some apples for the horses' in elvish to sound more polite. Well, that's what he told me it meant. The more accurate translation turned out to be 'I need a brain because I'm stupid. Have one?'

I left the kitchens with a face as red as the apples I carried in my arms, and the sound of the elves laughter following behind me. I hated being played for a fool, and I was not going to let Glandur get away with this.

As soon as I got back to the stables and spotted Glandur shovelling the hay, I grabbed one of the apples and threw it at his chest, "You," I took out another apple and threw it at his kneecap "complete," the last one I aimed at his head "_Jackass!_" All three apples hit their intended targets, and I was glad to see the look of absolute bewilderment on his face.

So much for keeping my temper in check.

I was breathing heavily, pinching the edge of my nose trying to calm myself down. Great, I had just thrown a bunch of apples at an elf; I guess another apology was in order. But just as I was going to say sorry, Glandur spoke.

"You have really good aim, for a human woman," I looked up at him and saw respect clear in his eyes. He paused before continuing, "I am sorry for making you say those things. My father always told me I get carried away with my fun." I had to agree.

"Yes, well I'm sorry I threw those apples at you. I have a slight problem with my temper."

"Not at all! I deserved every one of those well aimed apples." He grinned at me, and I laughed forgetting my anger.

From then on, we got along fairly well. Talk of my apple throwing spread throughout Rivendell until I was known as 'Katherine, the notorious apple throwing human'. Yep, quite a title, and one I reminded Glandur of every time he started to make fun of me for one of my numerous mistakes in the stables.

So the days past, and I slipped into an easy routine of taking lessons with Bilbo in the mornings, and helping Glandur out in the stables each afternoon. It was a peaceful and simple existence I led in Rivendell, something I would miss in the coming months.

The thing about living in Rivendell is that you seem to forget about time, or maybe time had just forgotten Rivendell. Either way, I didn't even notice when my twentieth birthday had come and gone. I guess celebrations weren't high on my priority list.

So by the time Gandalf finally arrived in Rivendell, I was no longer a teenager.

**A/N: Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does of course!**

**A/N: This chapter is a bit longer and it was hard for me to write. I added bits from both the book and movie for a more detailed description. I'm not sure I really like it; it feels like it's missing something...or maybe I've been staring at the computer screen too long. Anyway, let me know what you think.**

"Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices." – Alfred A. Montapert

There is a time in every person's life when you say to yourself; I really shouldn't be here.

Now, for someone who is from another world entirely it would surprise you to think that up until this point the thought had barely crossed my mind once. I had been more concerned with the questions 'Where am I?' or 'How do I get home?' or even 'Have you heard of a little thing called soap?'

But as I walked into a room full of mostly strangers I found myself thinking this.

The council of Elrond was about to commence and I had been invited courtesy of Lord Elrond himself, and I had a strong urge to bolt back out of the council room door. I probably would have if it were not for Aragorn's firm grip on my arm. Damn ranger. He and Arwen had ganged up on me this morning, with Arwen making sure I was wearing appropriate attire for the occasion, in others words she dressed me, while Aragorn had practically dragged me from my room to this one. I'd always thought those two made a good team, and woe to any that try to oppose them. Like me.

As we moved towards the seats set in a semi circular shape around Lord Elrond's grand looking chair, I nervously looked around at the guests that had already arrived.

All of the early birds were elves of course. They all sat patiently in their seats waiting for the other guests to arrive. They were the Mirkwood elves, I supposed, led here by their Prince Legolas to inform us Gollum's escape.

I wasn't sure which one was Legolas until Aragorn offered a greeting to him. I didn't understand what he was saying but when I heard Legolas' name, one of the elves turned in our direction and called "Elessar!", before rambling on jovially in elvish.

So this was Legolas Greenleaf.

I wasn't sure what I expected. Elves are incredibly attractive, and Legolas was no exception to this rule. His blonde hair fell softly just below his shoulders with various braids weaved through his locks. His skin was fair and his face strong, with high cheekbones and full lips being prominent features on his face. But the most striking feature was his eyes, being ice blue and piercing. I knew this because he had just looked past Aragorn and found me staring at him. Shit.

I looked away quickly, but not before catching the weird look he gave me. I sat down on the seat closest to me, which was at the end of the semi circle, and pretended to look interested by the design printed on my dress sleave. I felt a blush creeping up on my face and this only gave me more incentive to run. But at that moment Aragorn sat down next to me having finished greeting his friend. No escape now.

While waiting for the others to arrive, and trying to ignore the weird looks I knew the elves were giving me, I pondered what would be discussed about me today at this meeting.

When Gandalf had arrived in Rivendell several days ago, he had brought with him some bad news concerning me.

You know how I mentioned earlier that not telling Gandalf about Saruman's betrayal would come back to bite me? Well, it did, quite painfully.

When Gandalf and I were reunited, our reunion was cut short when he mentioned that he had some bad news, about me.

A sense of dread filled me as I followed him to Lord Elrond's study. Judging by the look on his face, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he had to say. But, like the good girl that I was I followed him anyway.

Elrond, though taken aback at being told of my origins, was not as surprised as I would have thought. Maybe he already suspected as much.

The big surprise for us both was when Gandalf told us that it was Saruman who was responsible for bringing me here.

He had revealed as much to Gandalf while he was at Orthanc when Gandalf mentioned he had found a girl from another universe in the far west. It turned out that Saruman had thought his attempt unsuccessful for I had not appeared in Isengard as he had intended. I was to be used for information to aid the dark lord in his war against the rest of Middle Earth. Lucky for me things hadn't gone to plan.

But unlucky in that my arrival destination wasn't the only thing that didn't go to plan.

See, there is a void between worlds, a place of nothing, a phantom zone, or limbo. There are many names for it, but it's a place where demons and other dark creatures are banished to when they die, or where they are created, it's unclear. The details on this place are not very good, but basically I had to travel through this place to get to Middle Earth, and unfortunately, a demon had somehow managed to jump a ride with me.

For the time being it was still at Isengard because it wasn't strong enough yet to harm anyone. Emphasis on yet. One day it would escape Isengard and be free to do whatever evil thing it likes to do. Oh, and I haven't even got to the good part yet. It's invisible.

Well, it's invisible to all but those who have been in the void, like me.

In other words, I was the only one who could see it, and probably the only one who could kill it too.

But that's not what I was most upset with. No. Saruman knew where I was, and that I was alive, which meant that he would be coming for me. So you can understand why I was so upset. A big evil demon, and big evil wizard, and an even bigger evil dark lord now knew where I was.

I must have done something seriously bad in a past life.

"Katherine, calm down," Gandalf had said when he first told me this.

"Calm down? Calm down! How else did you expect me to react Gandalf? You've put me on Middle Earth's most wanted list, second only to Mister Frodo Baggins!"

"Lady Katherine, I'm sure Gandalf did not put you in danger on purpose," Elrond was saying diplomatically. "Indeed, if you claim to know so much about things to come, how is it that you did not see Saruman's betrayal?"

Oh yeah, it was only a matter of time before this got turned around on me.

"Well...I was upset with Gandalf the last time I saw him and I didn't think...Oh, I've made such a mess," I said covering my face with my hands.

"What's done is done. Let us forgive the past and look to the future," Gandalf said gently putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I can't stay here, can I?" I said looking at Lord Elrond. Elrond looked at me for a few moments in that intense elfish way before answering.

"I have word that many leaders are coming to Rivendell for council or to discuss the fate of our world. I would ask you to join us, then perhaps we may find a place for you in our world."

So that's how I got invited to the council of Elrond. I can't help but think that if I wasn't so upset with Gandalf all those months ago when he said he was leaving, if I had said something, anything, that I wouldn't have been invited to the council because no one would have been after me.

Speaking of Gandalf, he had just entered the council room, followed closely by Frodo and Bilbo. Gandalf only nodded at me while Bilbo stopped and greeted me with more enthusiasm.

"My dear Katherine! I'm afraid I have neglected our lessons as of late and have not seen you in days. How do you fair?"

"I am quite well thank you Bilbo, and you are quite forgiven. With all the excitement that has been going on our lessons seem rather unimportant don't they?"

"Yes indeed, they do. Have you met my nephew yet? This here is Frodo. Frodo, this is Lady Katherine. She had been my student here for the last six months, ever since Strider convinced me to help her out with her language skills."

"Nice to meet you Lady Katherine."

"Oh please Frodo, call me Kathy. I'm not one for titles and formalities, and have long tried to convince your uncle as much."

"Kathy it is then," he said smiling warmly.

After a short greeting to Aragorn, they took their seats opposite me in the circle. Okay, so that wasn't so bad. I had been trying to avoid meeting Frodo, knowing that he possessed the one ring and not knowing how it would affect me. That's why I didn't go to the feast last night. I pretended to feel tired from spending the whole day in the stables and stayed in my room. And that in turn was why Arwen and Aragorn were so determined to get me to the council today. Oh, they would make good parents one day.

One by one the rest of the guests arrived and took their seats.

I spotted Gimli, who was arguing quietly with his father Gloin about something. I had met Gimli already, having run into him in one of the various gardens in Rivendell. He had gotten lost, not having been to Rivendell before and I recalled doing the same thing when I first arrived. I assured him that it was not uncommon for first timers to get lost, as the gardens were numerous and looked very similar to each other.

He stood just short of five feet, only about six or seven inches shorter than me. My first impression of him was that he was a bit sturdy, but don't be fooled by the bulk; the dwarf could move when he wanted too, especially in battle. His beard was long and elaborate, and I recall asking him once if it ever got annoying enough to cut it off. He looked at me in alarm and said that the only time a dwarf shaved his beard off was out of shame.

Woops. Cultural differences, something I needed to watch out for.

I liked Gimli, despite his short temper and proud nature. He was welcoming and accepting of me, something that I was grateful for.

Boromir was easy to spot. He was the only other human that took part of this meeting. I hadn't met him yet. His clothes were different than that of the elves and dwarfs, and even Aragorns. They looked rich enough though to symbolise his noble heritage. He had a short beard and brown hair, and the way he moved his body was such that you could tell he was a warrior.

When he had entered the room with his chin held high and looked around at everyone, he did a double take of me. I knew why; because I was a woman.

Women are treated very delicately in middle earth, and are generally kept out of any fighting, just like in medieval times. At times it was infuriating to have people look down to you because you're a woman and you can't take care of yourself. Not that I particularly wanted to be in harm's way, but sometimes you do just to prove that you could do anything that the men could do, just to wipe the look off of their face.

Other times it's nice to be recognised for being a lady. Chivalry wasn't dead here. But, neither were sexists.

Not that I'm calling Boromir a sexist, that's too harsher word. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that Boromir was brought up to believe that women shouldn't be involved in war and politics.

He didn't say anything as he took his seat, but I knew he wasn't comfortable with my involvement here. Well, he had no idea how bad it was.

When everyone was seated, Elrond stood up.

"Stranger's from distant lands, friends of old; you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction, none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the ring Frodo."

This was all starting to sound awfully familiar, and I had a very surreal moment while I sat there and watched the scene I read all those years ago in a book play out for me in front of my very eyes. It wouldn't be the last time I had this feeling.

When Frodo placed the ring in the center of the room, I felt its power for the first time. It was...evil. There was no other way to describe it. I never felt the power try to corrupt me or call to me, all I ever felt from it was darkness and wickedness.

Gandalf had a theory about that. He said that because I was not from the same universe the ring was created in it did not hold the same sway over me. But my origins also meant that I was not used to the evil power that everyone else in this land had lived with all their lives, so I felt it more strongly than they did. And this was proved when Gandalf used the Black speech during the meeting.

I had not been expecting it to affect me so badly. One of my hands clutched my head in pain while my other hand gripped the arm of the chair. It felt like I suddenly got a splitting headache, and I felt violated somehow, like I was never meant to have heard the words that Gandalf spoke.

Aragorn, having noticed my discomfort called out to Gandalf to stop.

"Gandalf, halt your words!" But Gandalf either did not hear or did not care.

"Gandalf!" Lord Elrond commanded loudly, and finally the headache let up. "Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris."

"I do not ask your pardon Lord Elrond for the black speech may yet be heard in every corner of the west."

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked quietly. I only nodded, not trusting that my voice was sturdy enough to use.

The meeting continued, and the stories went on and on. I was starting to get hungry.

Elrond said his part, Boromir told us of his troubles, Bilbo and Frodo told their stories, Gloin told us of his worries over Balin, Gandalf and Aragorn talked of Gollum, and Legolas told us of Gollum's escape. It then came time for Gandalf to tell of Saruman's betrayal and his attempt to capture me.

"...at the start of March I was heading for the Shire when I felt a great power building further into the west. I went to investigate its origins and found a young women lying unconscious at its centre; The Lady Katherine who sits among us," he said indicating me.

_Katherine, Gandalf, it's just Katherine!_

Everyone looked at me and I shifted nervously. "I woke her up," he continued. "She was dressed strangely and did not speak in any tongue that I had heard before. This caused me some alarm as I was sure that I knew all languages spoken on middle earth. I then came to the only conclusion that made sense; she was not of this world. As the days passed I came to understand her words as I took her to the village Bree in hopes that Aragorn would be there also. And as luck would have it he was. I instructed him to take her to Rivendell and keep her safe, for at that time she had revealed that she knew of events to come and the fate of middle earth. She refuses to tell anyone of any future information, and as such I would advise all of you not to ask her, for she will not answer you." He looked seriously around the room that was filled with murmurs and whispers before continuing, "at the end of June I was in the Shire..."

This part was of how he had met up with Radagast the Brown, arriving at Isenguard and meeting Saruman.

"In my eagerness to get answers from him," Gandalf went on, "I plunged into how I had found Katherine, and told him of my suspicions.

"'Your are correct Gandalf,' Saruman told me 'for it was I who had sent for a prophet from another realm to come and advise me on current events. Indeed, I thought my attempt unsuccessful until you brought me tidings. What news! But you see, in bringing her here I also brought a demon too.'

"'A demon?' I said 'what madness is this Saruman? There is Evil enough abroad, for the nine have come forth again. They have crossed the River. So Radagast told me.'"

Gandalf went on to tell of how he escaped and came as quickly as he could to Rivendell.

There was a silence after Gandalf's story that lasted for several seconds before Elrond stood up again.

"You now have but one choice. The ring must be destroyed. It must be taken deep in to Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came," Elrond concluded, looking around at everyone. "One of you must do this."

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir spoke up in an 'are you serious?' tone. "There is evil there that does not sleep, and the great eye is ever watchful. It is a barren waste last riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly!"

"Have you heard nothing of what has been discussed?" Legolas counted, annoyed. "The ring must be destroyed to defeat Sauron for good."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" piped up Gimli.

"And if we fail? What then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir's voice was getting louder, and I saw Gandalf give him an angry look.

Gimli ignored Boromir, and his father's attempts to calm him. "I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf," he cried. This stirred most of the elves in the room to stand and all hell broke loose when he finished with "No one trust an Elf!"

The elves and dwarves were now both on their feet arguing with each other, while Boromir and Gandalf heatedly discussed the fate of the ring.

But I wasn't watching them. My eyes were on Frodo. I saw Bilbo pat him on the back in encouragement before he stood up in resignation and shouted at the top of his tiny lungs; "I will take it!"

No one heard him, so I put my fingers to my mouth and let loose an ear splitting whistle. All eyes in the room looked at me shocked, except for Aragorn who was rubbing his ear in pain.

"I think Frodo has something to say," I said calmly, nodding toward the hobbit.

"I will take the ring to Mordor," he declared bravely. "Though, I do not know the way," he admitted.

"I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf said, standing behind Frodo. Here we go...

Aragorn, apparently over his sore ear, stood up and made his way over to Frodo before saying "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will," he knelt down, "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," Legolas quickly put in.

"And my Axe," Gimli growled, determined not to be out done by the elf. Oh, those two were a funny pair.

"You carry the fate of us all little one," Boromir sighed. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Ha!" came a voice from outside the circle, and we all turned to see another hobbit, Sam, come and stand determined at Frodo's side. "Mister Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!"

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not!" Elrond laughed.

"Oi, we're coming too!" The voice came from behind me this time.

"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us." Merry and Pippin had come to stand with Frodo as well.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest...thing!" Pippen announced. I giggled to myself at that. But I quickly stopped when I caught Gandalf's eye. He looked like he was trying to communicate through his eyes, looking at Frodo and then back at me. Did he want to go with them?

Was he freaking serious?

There were so many reasons why that was a bad idea. I would be in the middle of things, something could go wrong with the plot, I could get hurt, I could get captured, tortured, mutilated, die! Okay, I was freaking out a bit.

"Well that rules you out Pip." Merry was saying to Pippin in a hushed tone, but loud enough for us all to hear.

I sighed. I knew I needed to leave Rivendell, Lord Elrond had said as much earlier. And there was a demon on the loose, which wasn't part of the Lord of the Rings story as far as I was aware. Maybe I was supposed to protect them from this demon. Maybe that was my purpose here. Maybe then I could go home...

I stood up from my seat. This would change a lot of things for me. I really hoped I wasn't making a huge mistake.

"Oh, I am sure by people of intelligence he was referring to me," I said to Merry, and this was met with a few chuckles and smiles. "It seems, Frodo, that there is a demon abroad that only I can see. And I cannot stay in Rivendell much longer for the enemy knows my whereabouts. I hope you will accept my accompanying you on this quest. I would be your eyes, as it were."

"Gladly! I would feel more at ease knowing you are watching out for us," Frodo admitted. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or terrified by his acceptance.

"Ten companions," Elrond contemplated before continuing. "So be it. You shall be the fellowship of the ring."

That is how I became a part of the famous fellowship. It would be a journey that would test me, that would challenge me, that would show me who I am.

But at such a momentous announcement, my only thought was; _bloody hell_!

**A/N: Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**A/N: Next chapter! It has more dialogue and more character involvement than the others I have written. Please let me know what you think.**

"In times of war, when the truth is so precious, it must be attended by a bodyguard of lies." – Winston Churchill

One thing I was determined to learn before I left with the fellowship was some skills with a blade. I knew full well the dangers we faced and I made sure that I was prepared for them as best I could.

Dad always said "_Make sure you're prepared Kathy in whatever you decide to do. Always have the advantage."_ He made his money by coaching football, so he was always talking about how best to prepare his team for each match.

So who better to train a potential demon killer than a back-from-the-dead ex-demon killer himself?

Yes, that's right. After consulting Lord Elrond and Gandalf, Glorfindel himself was assigned to teach me how to use a sword.

"Have you used a sword before?" he asked me the first time we met.

"No, but I'm pretty sure the pointy end goes into the other guy, right?" I said, attempting some humour to cover the fact that I was nervous. Glorfindel smiled at me, either sensing my nervousness, or maybe he just found my joke funny.

"Indeed. But it is often a little harder to stab 'the other guy' when they also have a sword and are trying to kill you as well. Katherine, I will teach you as much as I can in the little time that we have to practice, but I'm afraid that two months is not very long. Therefore, we will train long and hard every morning. Is that agreed?" This meant giving up my mornings with Bilbo, but he would understand that fighting skills were more important than literacy skills at the moment.

"It is agreed."

Glorfindel was a ruthless teacher. To him it did not matter that I was human or a woman, I was still a student and was treated as such. It was times like this that I wished I was cut some slack because of my obvious disadvantages.

Mercifully, for the first month or so my lessons were privat,e and no one saw my humiliating failures or mistakes.

"Move your feet! Move your body! Imagine I am the orc coming to get you. Repeat that movement. Again. And Again. On your feet, the enemy with not wait to kill you! Where is your other arm supposed to be? Attack from the left! Attack from the right! And Again!"

I cannot count the times that I went to sleep wanting to murder Glorfindal in his sleep, for every night I went to bed with various bruises and cuts, and every night I was sorer than the last.

But swordsmanship was not the only thing that gave me bruises.

In the afternoons, I asked Glandur to teach me how to ride a horse because that seemed like the most popular mode of transport in Middle Earth, and at some point I might need to know how to ride one.

"You? You want to learn how to ride? I'm not sure that's especially wise Kathy..."

"Please Glandur? I really need to know!"

"Well, I suppose we could give it a go."

"Oh, thank you so much!"

"Well up you get," he said, indicating the horse he was currently attending to. I blanched.

"W-what? Now? How-?" I stuttered. The horse wasn't wearing a saddle, and it was so big! I didn't know how I was supposed to get on its back.

The details of learning how to ride a horse are too embarrassing to discuss. Basically it involved me falling off the horse. Like, a lot. But Glandur told me that I could not be a confident rider until I had fallen off a few times. Easy for him to say. He was an elf and had probably never fell off a horse in his entire existence.

Not only did I get winded a number of times, but the bruises I was left with were worse than the ones from my jousting with Glorfindel. I was lucky not to have broken something really.

And I was wearing a dress.

Glandur _claims_ he didn't see up my dress, but I don't see how he could have missed seeing my dress being pulled up to my hip, revealing a small portion of my tattoo. We never discussed it after that day.

There were so many times when I just wanted to give up. I nearly did several times. It would have been so easy to stop trying, to stop caring. And I just wanted one day to rest. But I kept going, I endured. I didn't complain.

I suppose there is no rest for the wicked.

...

It was during one of my lessons with Glorfindel, after we had started sparring with everyone else on the practice field that the topic of disguise was brought up.

Gandalf was sitting on the sidelines watching, as was Aragorn who had returned from his scouting of the surrounding landscape. Glorfindel and I were sparring and I just make a rather impressive move to avoid one of his swings. I was going in for the kill when he blocked me, so I counted to the side, anticipating him to block me again, but he had already managed to point his sword at my throat. I yielded.

"Good, that was better. But, make sure you always keep an eye on your opponent's weapon. They do not always do what you expect them to."

"So expect the unexpected then?" I panted, grinning.

"That is one way to put it yes," he smiled down at me, lowering his sword. "That will be all for today. Go, have some lunch."

"What, is it noon already?" I didn't feel as tired as I usually did; surely we had longer to go?

"Yes, it is well past noon in fact. We trained a bit longer today." I must be getting fitter, for we had now been training for a month and a half.

"You move well, Lady Katherine," Aragorn called over to us. I thanked Glorfindel and made my way over to him. "You look like a young squire when you spar. It would serve you well for your disguise."

"What disguise?" I asked confused.

"Has Gandalf not yet told you?" I looked over at Gandalf who was now engaged in a conversation with Glorfindel.

"He hasn't told me anything."

"Oh, well we believe it would be in your best interests to be disguised as a boy on our trip. You see the enemy is looking for a woman, and if you appear otherwise, no one but the fellowship would know any better."

What he said made sense, and I was all for protecting my identity, but seriously? Could I really pull off being a man...err, boy?

"How exactly do you propose I do that?"

"Well, it's all about appearance, and you don't exactly..." Aragorn paused, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence.

"'Don't exactly...' what? What, Aragorn?" I demanded. What did he think was wrong with me?

"It's just that the way you walk isn't exactly what one might call 'lady like'." He winced at his own words.

I was well aware that I was not the dainty type, from my figure to my talk.

"Oh, well you're probably right. But what I meant was how am I supposed to hide these?" I asked, pointing to my breasts. While they weren't exactly huge, they were a dead giveaway, even under a few layers of clothing.

Aragorn did not know what to say to this. Seriously, not one peep from the man. He just looked away pointedly with wide eyed embarrassment. _Oh my gosh!_

"Oh fine, I'll go talk to the Lady Arwen."

As I walked away to go find the dark haired beauty, I shook my head and muttered "_Men,_" under my breath.

...

Arwen, though not nearly as embarrassed to talk about my disguise, was a little taken aback by my abrasive use of the word breasts and how men were idiots. She was amused by my ramblings, her laughter filling the room like the tinkering of bells. She assured me that the seamstresses would be able to come up with something for me to hide my 'womanly figure'.

Other things I had to consider were my hair and my voice.

I refused to cut my hair. When I had first arrived in Middle Earth, my wavy caramel locks were barely at my shoulders, a hairstyle that was usually adopted by men here. Women tended to grow their hair very long, and even though my hair had grown seven or eight inches, it was still short enough to get away with being male. I would tie it at the nape of my neck when we travelled.

My eyebrows had grown out within the first month of my arrival because I didn't have anything to pluck them with, so I didn't have to worry about them looking too feminine. The same went for my legs, for I had nothing to shave them with so they were all hairy. Not that anyone would be looking at my legs.

My voice was easy to change. I would practice with Gimli when I could, for he had the deepest voice I knew of.

After one of my morning training session, I cleaned up and got changed before going out to find him, and perhaps have lunch together before practicing. I found him back at the training grounds practicing his skills with an axe. As I watched him, he paused and looked over his shoulder at something and glowered, before returning his attention to his father who was his practice partner. Wondering what had made him so angry, I looked in the same direction as he had.

Legolas Greenleaf was standing there in green and brown, shooting arrows into a target, hitting the centre every single time, even from such a long distance. He had gathered the attention of the rest of the archers that were practicing, and they all gathered to praise him of his skill.

_Show off_, I thought to myself. I then realised that that was probably what Gimli was so annoyed about, and I chuckled to myself.

For some enigmatic reason, Legolas heard me from where he stood, which was no short distance. He turned his head in my direction, but his glance was only spared for a few moments before he went back to his shooting.

I had not seen Legolas since the council. I had been busy training and I heard that he had been out scouting with Aragorn and the other elves. Not that I'd really minded but he was the only one of the fellowship that I hadn't gotten a chance to know.

I spent some evenings with the hobbits, who were great, especially Merry and Pippin. They were a lot of fun, and talked mostly of non-consequential topics, which made for a nice change. Sam was a little distrustful of me at first, as he was with most people, but he warmed up to me eventually. Frodo was more mature than the others, and also had the most logical and brave personality. And by golly did they eat! It is hard to think that such small people could eat so much.

Boromir I had had several conversations with, mostly about why I shouldn't go on this trip. I agreed with him on most points, but told him why it had to be, and if there was any other way, I would not hesitate to stay.

After much assurance, he grudgingly agreed. But when we got past that conversation, he wouldn't shut up about Gondor and all its glory. He hoped one day that I would see it.

"Yes, Boromir, I hope to see it too. Oh, is that Gandalf calling? So sorry to leave you, I'll see you later!"

He wasn't innately a bad person, he was just a little annoying sometimes.

Gandalf, Aragorn and Gimli I had already met, so I thought that perhaps I should make some time to talk to Legolas.

I was pondering this as I waited for Gimli to finish up. He was really quite good, and faster and stronger than I initially thought.

I wished I was stronger. I remembered trying to pick up a proper sword like the ones Glorfindel and Aragorn used. I found I couldn't fight with them because they were too heavy, and I kept dropping them. As a result, I practiced with short swords, and sometimes daggers as well. They were light and easy to handle.

I saw Gimli start to gather his axe's together, and stood up from the tree that I was sitting under. Time for lunch, I guessed. I turned to meet him at the entrance to the training field, but as I turned I was met with the figure of Legolas.

I stopped abruptly, surprised. I didn't hear anyone, but elves were very light footed and it wasn't the first time I had been snuck up on.

"I did not mean to startle you," came Legolas' gentle voice.

"Err...that's okay. I should be used to it by now. You elves are so quiet."

There was an awkward silence in which he stared at me with his ice blue eyes. His gaze made me uneasy and I went to walk away, but he moved into my path.

"Can I help you with something?" I demanded.

"Perhaps you could tell me why you were laughing at me before," he said airily after a short pause.

"Oh, I wasn't really laughing at you exactly, I just realised something," I said thinking back to how Gimli and I both thought he was showing off.

"I see. May I enquire as to what you realised?"

"I should think not."

"Is it another secret that you keep?" His eyes narrowed slightly_. Huh?_

"Not really, I just don't think it's any of your business." I was really starting to get annoyed at this point. What was his deal?

"Then why were you watching me practice?"

"Well, nosey, I was waiting for Gimli. He and I are working to make my voice deeper."

"Why on earth would you do that?" he asked aghast. _Well, why all the questions buddy?_

"Haven't you heard?" He shook his head slowly, unsure. I sighed, surprised that he didn't already know. "Well, I am being disguised as a young man when we set out on the quest. The enemy will be looking for a woman, and in case any spies come across us, they will not see me as anything more than what I appear. Or so I hope."

"Ah, more lies. Is there anything about you that is real?" He was being so unfair, and I did not understand why. No one had treated me so mistrustfully since...well, ever. Wasn't it enough that both Gandalf and Lord Elrond trusted me? And who was he to talk about secrecy? I've heard about the woodland realms and how they like to keep to themselves. Legolas' hypocritical accusations made me so angry I wanted to hit him. But I controlled myself enough to settle for glaring.

"How about you take your questions and shove them up your-" I started, but at that moment, Gimli came to intervene.

"My Lady Katherine, I hope this elf here isn't bothering you too much?" he said. How many times did I have to tell him, it was just Kathy.

"No, he was just leaving, weren't you?" I enquired of said elf.

Legolas looked at me calmly before saying "My Lady," nodded his head shortly, and marched off.

"What was that about?" Gimli asked when the elf was out of earshot.

"I'm not entirely sure. But I don't think he likes me very much..."

"I'm not the elves greatest admirer, but I have to say that that one is even stranger than the others I've met around here."

"I have to agree my friend."

The rest of the time I spent with Gimli that day made me forget my troubling conversation with Legolas. We both laughed at my attempts to sound male, but in the end, we got a result.

...

Arwen came to my room about two weeks before we would leave on our quest with a thick leather corset that I was to wear under my clothes. I needed help doing the back of it up, and Arwen gave me a hand with this. It wasn't customary for her to do this, but she told me that the seamstresses were at work on my coat as we speak and they did not have time to see if the corset fit.

"They are planning to add some padding to the shoulders to make your shoulders look broader," she was saying as she tightened the strings. "Oh, and this leather should help protect your chest from injury too."

"So it's like Kevlar vest," I said, happy to know I had more protection. Arwen just looked at me strangely. "Oh, never mind," I said with a dismissive hand.

"Okay, all done," she said when she was finished.

I looked down at myself. I was chest was now completely flat, but it didn't feel weird, or uncomfortable. In fact, the support it gave me was amazing and I was still free to move in every direction.

"Oh wow! Arwen this is amazing! Tell the seamstresses thank you! And that they are amazing. And that if they lived in my world, they would be rich as a footballer!"

"I'm not sure what a footballer is, but I will tell them that you are happy with the result," she said merrily.

...

On the last day of the fellowships stay in Rivendell, I managed to say farewell to all who I deemed friends. I was sad to part from them, and from the peace that Rivendell offered me, but all good things must come to an end, and I had overstayed my welcome as it was.

I said my goodbyes to Glandur in the stables that afternoon. He wished me well on my 'adventure' and hoped that his teaching of horses and horse riding would not go to waste.

"I do not believe we will see each other again," he said sadly, the usual smile that adorned his face gone.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Our paths lead us in different directions. I shall soon head for the gray havens, and you are heading out with the fellowship."

His speech was a slap in the face, and almost caused me to cry.

"I shall miss you Glandur," I admitted, "for never has someone pulled a prank on me quite like you!"

"And never has someone thrown an apple at me quite like you!"

I half laughed half sobbed at this, and Glandur quickly pulled me into a hug.

...

I made my way to the Hall of Fire for the first time in two months, and found both Bilbo and Glorfindel there, along with the rest of the fellowship. I greeted them all cheerfully, except Legolas, whom I'd avoided since our last conversation. I barely nodded at him now, and this didn't go unnoticed by Gandalf and Aragorn, but they did not ask any questions.

Bilbo farewelled me with great enthusiasm. I wasn't sure how to repay him for all that he had done for me, but he told me that if we were to ever meet again that I should tell him of all my adventures. I agreed to this with a laugh, and kissed the old hobbit on the cheek.

When I found Glorfindel later that night, he presented me with a short sword, a dagger and a small knife to keep.

"Do me proud, and remember your lessons. Practice, if you get the chance, while you travel."

I handled the weapons carefully. They were all of elvish design and looked more like a piece of artwork than a weapon. I didn't want to use them for fear of them getting dirt or scratches on them. But as I would find out, elvish weapons do not scratch, or get dirty, or even break very easily at all.

"Thank you Glorfindel. And I will do as you advise."

He nodded at me before walking off to Lord Elrond to engage him in conversation.

I decided to turn in early that night, and admire my new weapons in private.

I did not sleep well that night. Dreams of darkness and evil creatures invaded my subconscious, and when I woke, I was left shivering with a cold sense of foreboding.

It would not be the last time I had this dream.

**A/N: I love reviews, please send me one!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**A/N: I enjoyed writing this chapter, I think because it was a bit easy. Again, I've used bits from the movie and book, so let me know what you think!**

"Travel is glamorous only in retrospect." – Paul Theroux

There was not much to report of the first part of our journey. The landscape was monotonous and barren, and the course we were set on was rougher than any I had been on thus far. It was slow and cold, for we were walking along a snow capped mountain range and the constant wind that blew our way was freezing.

I wished I was allowed to bring my hoddie along. It was the warmest piece of clothing I owned, and even the elvish garment that I was adorned with didn't keep me at a comfortable temperature.

Though, I was extremely grateful for the beanie and scarf thing that I was given by Gandalf just before we left. They kept my ears from going numb, and hid the slightly feminine shape of my neck and head.

"A finishing touch," he had said, approving my disguise.

When we set up camp at the end of each day, we all huddled around the fire, desperate to get some warmth into our bodies. All of us that is, except Legolas, who didn't seem affected by the weather at all, or fatigue, or any other ailment that us mere mortals suffered from. Damn Elf.

Oh, an interesting fact about elves; they glow.

No really, they do.

You don't really notice it when you're in Rivendell or any other elvan home because the whole place seems so light and happy as well. It was a subtle difference, but Legolas just seemed to stand out from the rest of the world around him. Nothing seemed to break his cheerful outlook on our doomed quest, and I often found myself wanting to punch him in his pretty little face for getting it so easy.

In the mornings I would wake up sore and tired from a restless sleep, and could barely get out a 'good morning' without snapping at someone. After yelling at Merry one morning for passing me a piece of bread instead of an apple, no one would come within a ten foot radius of me until I had the chance to wake up a bit. Even then, conversations with me were few and far between.

So after those first two weeks, when the sun finally came out from behind the clouds and the wind let up its attack, we found ourselves on the borders of Hollin.

The warmer weather made for a merrier company, and I for one was jubilant when it was decided that we would be staying here a little longer than usual. Perhaps I could then get a proper night's sleep for once.

"I think we will rest here, not only today but tonight as well." Gandalf announced when we had arrived. "There is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the Elves, if they once dwelt there."

"That is true," said Legolas. "But the elves of this land were of a race strange to us silvan folk, and trees and grass do not now remember them. Only I hear the stones lament them: _deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone_. They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago."

I decided then that elves were weird. I knew that they had a close affiliation with nature, but talking rocks? Seriously? That was crazy talk. Maybe _he_ was just crazy, and maybe that's why he acted so strange around me.

Yeah...that was it. So who agreed to bring the crazy elf along with us?

I pondered this as I set up my bed roll on a soft spot of dirt I'd found. I always made sure to reserve the best bit of ground that I could, to ensure the best night's sleep I could get. It hadn't really made a difference where I'd slept lately, but now with the potential for a good forty winks, I wasn't about to be stuck with a hard rocky surface as my mattress.

I laid on back for a moment, absorbing the sun's rays. I'd missed the sun. Back home it was something that was taken for granted, but now I couldn't get enough of the suns warmth. I felt my whole body slowly absorbing the heat that it offered, and felt a good deal better for it.

I think sunshine was somehow linked to my good mood button for suddenly I was met with the sudden need to sing. It's funny what a bit of vitamin D does for a person.

"_Now, I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh, I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh, I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh, and don't it feel good! Hey! Alright now..._"

"What is that awful noise all about?" Pippin's voice came from the other side of the campsite. I had been singing a lot louder than I had meant to.

"Oh, I was just singing a song about sunshine," I said, embarrassed.

"Really? It sounded more like an injured rabbit squealing in pain," Pippin replied. The company laughed at this, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

My pride would not allow this comment to go unpunished, so I pulled up a clump of grass out of the ground, sat up and aimed it directly at Pippin's face. The poor hobbit didn't see it coming, and was showered in dirt and mud as the grass clump exploded on impact. Served him right, cheeky bugger.

"And you now look more like a garden gnome on a bad day," I called out to him.

When the sound of laughter had died down, and Gandalf had finished lecturing us on the basic principles of maturity, I settled down for a nap.

When I woke a couple of hours later, it was to the clinking sound of metal swords hitting each other. I stood up quickly, taking my sword out as I went. What was going on? Why was there a battle going on? Was it the demon? Had I been sleeping while the fellowship was under attack by something they could not see?

When I stood up and looked around, I realised my foolishness. We were not under attack, rather Boromir was practicing swordsmanship with Merry and Pippin. Overreacting much?

Only Gandalf and the Elf were witness to my little panic display, the latter simply raising an eyebrow before looking back out at the view we had from our vantage point. Gandalf gave me a concerned look but I just shook my head and smiled sheepishly. It was nothing, I was just being stupid.

After getting something to eat from our pony Bill, as Sam had called him, I went down to where Boromir and the others were. I took a seat next to Aragorn and we watched as the hobbits learned how to use a sword.

"How was your nap?" Aragorn asked.

"Refreshing, thank you. I had not had a rest like that since Rivendell."

"Indeed, there is no place like it for the weary traveller," he said, his eyes getting a little unfocussed as he spoke. I had a fair idea of where his head was at. It must be hard going for months, perhaps even years without seeing the one you love. Ah, the consequences of being a ranger.

Aragorn was silent for a moment before taking a puff of his pipe and turning towards me and my knowing gaze. He shifted uncomfortably under my stare, so I returned to watching the hobbits.

"I should practice," I said, changing the topic. "Glorfindel said I should as we travelled, but I have not had the chance since we set out." Aragorn nodded in agreement.

"Then it would be your turn to go battle with Boromir of Gondor, for I think I need a little rest before continuing!" Merry announced, having heard my comment.

"Aye, indeed me too," Pippin decided.

"Okay big fella," I said, getting to my feet and drawing my sword, "show me what you've got."

"If that is your wish my lady," Boromir said with a gleam in his eye. Wait, was he joking with me? I though he did not approve of my being involved with fighting.

I was quickly shown that Boromir knew quite a lot about swordsmanship, as he won all of our spars quite comfortably. But they did tend to last longer than the times I had sparred with Glorfindel, for Boromir was not as fast as the elf, and I had an inkling he was going a little easy on me.

"Try using two hands when you swing your sword like that," he was saying, showing me what he meant with his own sword. "That way you put more strength into the blow."

"Okay," I said repeating the movement. "But Glorfindel said I should use one hand."

"I mean no offence, but you do not have the strength that a man or an elf has. Using that move without the right amount of force is useless. Know your limitations, and work around them." It was a solid piece of advice that he gave me, and I went off to practice that move on my own for a while.

So Boromir wasn't so bad, when he wasn't talking about Gondor that is. I hoped that we could practice together more often in the future, for he seemed to pick up on some things that Glorfindel missed.

Merry and Pippin were now back on their feet and fighting with Boromir again. Boromir had just accidently managed to hit Merry with his sword, and in his panic had dropped his guard to apologise. Merry managed to kick Boromir in the shins, and together he and Pippin somehow managed to tackle Boromir to the ground.

I was doubled up in giggles at this point, but Boromir's defeat wasn't even the best part. Aragorn had stood up and said "Gentlemen, that is enough," and went to grab the hobbits off poor Boromir. But he had also misjudged the hobbits knack for mischief, for when they realised what Aragorn was trying to do they turned on him in unison, grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs out from under him.

I roared with laughter. It was one of those good belly laughs that leaves you feeling good for long after.

However, our moment of hilarity was cut short when we heard Sam ask "What is that?"

We all looked out to the south where Sam was indicating to see what appeared to be a dark cloud, moving towards us.

"Nothing, it's just a wisp of cloud," Gimli said dismissively.

"But it's moving fast, and against the wind too," Boromir said sceptically, eyeing the cloud with worry.

"That is because it is not a cloud, but Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas said, alarmed. He had the best sight out of all of us, and he alone could see the true nature of the dark patch in the sky.

Oh shit. I _really_ should have seen that coming. I had not been paying attention to what happens in the story. I had been so concerned about my own troubles and preparing myself for things to come, that I had forgotten what wasto come.

"Hide!" cried Aragorn, jumping into action immediately. I followed suit and grabbed my bedding and pack from where I had left them. I then ran around like a headless chook trying to find somewhere to hide. Each time I thought I found a spot, it was already occupied by someone.

As I ran past a bush, I felt myself being pulled down to the ground. In my panic, my unreasonable brain thought that the ground was swallowing me whole, and I opened my mouth to scream, only to have it covered by a hand. I looked around frantically, only to find Legolas' face look at me meaningfully to _shut up_. So I did.

We watched through the small branches of the shrub as the birds circled low overhead, squawking and calling out to each other. The racket they made was unbelievable, and I covered my ears to try and block it out. However they did not hang around for much longer and they left in the direction that they came from.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. They were gone, thank god.

And I was hiding in a bush, with Legolas. And he was still holding a hand over my mouth.

Awkwardly, we sprang apart and detangled ourselves from the bush we were hiding in, and made our way over to the others.

"Aw, you made me get holes in my shirt," I said to him as I was examining my sleeves.

"It is but a small price to pay to be kept safe. You were out in the open; you could have alerted the enemy to our whereabouts," he said matter-of-factly.

"I-I was making my way to the bush next to yours," I quickly lied. "I would have made it too if you had not intervened."

Legolas looked at me doubtfully.

"The bush next to mine was many yards away. It would have been unlikely that you would have made it in time at the pace you humans travel."

I glared at him in indignation, but he didn't seem to realise he had just insulted me. He walked on ahead, offering no apology for his rudeness. Jerk.

"...I believe they were spying out the land for Saruman," Gandalf was saying when I joined the others.

"Gandalf, we must move. Hollin is no longer a wholesome place for us; it is being watched," Aragorn said seriously.

"And in that case so is the Redhorn Gate," Gandalf sighed and looked over to the massive snow capped mountain. "I fear that we have no choice but to take the pass of Caladras."

It was decided that we would start moving again when it was dark, which would be in another couple of hours or so. In the meantime, we kept ourselves hidden in case those nasty birds decided to come back for another visit. This time I avoided hiding in the same place as the Elf.

"I do not like hiding," Gimli complained to me. "Us dwarves are not meant for secrecy and stealth. Give me something solid that I can hit with my axe!"

"There will be time enough for that later Gimli," I said irritably through closed eyelids. "But for now could you just be quiet?"

Since we would no longer be resting here during the night I was trying to get in a few hours sleep before we left. Unfortunately I could no longer sleep on the soft spot on the ground I had picked out as it was out in the open with nowhere to hide. Instead, I was stuck next to a restless dwarf who would not shut up.

"Sorry lass," he apologised.

"Hmm," was all I offered him as a reply.

The good mood that I had acquired recently was now well and truely gone; I was _not_ looking forward to Caladras.

**A/N: I love reviews, please send me one!**


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